The sharp knife of a short life
by VerityJeneve
Summary: A song fic that came to me while I was listening to "If I die young" by The Band Perry. I always wondered about the other tribute's lives before the reaping. This story follows Foxface from the time of her reaping till her death.


_This is my of what life was for Foxface. I don't claim to own Hunger games, nor the characters that are part of it._

_-VJ_

* * *

_If I die young, bury me in satin  
Lay me down on a, bed of roses  
Sink me in the river, at dawn  
Send me away with the words of a love song_

For a few of us whose names were pulled from those fish bowls, there is hope. But for the other, the one's like myself, there is only our eminent deaths.

Some will dive head first into the opening battle at the Cornucopia to spare their families and districts the torture of hope. Some, will be the ones doing the killing. And the others will attempt to avoid the battle and outlast the ones hunting them. The only thing I know as I make my way to the stage is that I won't be hunting the other tributes. I'm no killer.

Standing on the stage next to Chance Zion, the District 5 escort, makes me feel more exposed than ever before. Normally I'm a stick to the shadows and out of the spot light kind of person. Standing on that stage waiting for the male tribute to make his way towards us was just downright excruciating. The entire District is watching me and him. Attempting to commit my face to memory as another child lost to the capitol.

After everything was in order, and we were escorted into the Justice Building, I started to wonder who'll come through the door to bid me goodbye. Will any of my friends? My teachers? The lady next door who's kids I walk to and from school every day?

The first group is no surprise. My family. Nothing was said at first. We simply stood there embracing each other as my scarlet haired mother sobbed into my shoulder and my baby faced father caressed my back gently.

_Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother  
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors,_

Funny. Normally my mother would have a million things to say about how tragic it was for these young children to be ripped away and sent to slaughter, but now the only sound that escapes her throat are sobs and muffled wails.

My father pulls her off of my and seats her in a chair. He really is the strong one of the two of them.

"We only have a few minutes." he announces as he stares out the window. I feel two small arms wrap around my legs, and I know my much younger brother is there. His little eyes wide with fear. He's too small to understand why Momma is sad, but he knows it's not good.

"You gotta take care of Momma now." I choke out as I lift him to my hip. I know my parents will tell him about me. About how I liked to climb trees and how I loved him more than anything in the world. "She's gonna need lots of hugs, Lee."

He wastes no time hopping off my hip, rushing over to our mother and wrapping his tiny little arms around her. This only brings more sobs and tears from my mother. I thankfully have yet to shed a tear. If I start crying now, I'll never stop.

"I prayed it would never be you." My father practically whispered as he gripped me tight to his chest and sighed. "I'm so sorry, baby."

"Daddy, it's not your fault. You couldn't change it. I'm okay with it." I was surprised as the strength in my voice. I wasn't okay with it, but I sounded so convincing that I almost believed myself. "It's just life."

"It shouldn't be yours, slick." We both smile tightly as his nick name for. "Be fast and keep your head down."

_oh well, Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no_

If these had been anyon'e else's parents, I would never have guess they even had a child old enough for the reaping. They still looked so young and fresh. But here I was, their 15 year old daughter.

_Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby_

With one final embrace, and a few more sobs from my mothers, I send my family from the room. Seeing them like this only reminds me how little a chance of survival I have and how little time I've been alive. Fifteen years seems like forever, but it's really such a small amount of time. Maybe it feels like forever because it's all I've ever known.

_The sharp knife of a short life, well  
I've had just enough time_

_If I die young, bury me in satin_  
_Lay me down on a, bed of roses_  
_Sink me in the river, at dawn_  
_Send me away with the words of a love song_

I'm given a few minutes to think before my next visitor arrives. Fifteen years really doesn't seem like much now. I'd kill for another fifteen years. That makes me laugh, because that is exactly what I'm expected to do. Kill to survive. Kill to live my life. THere are so many things I'll never get to do before my time is through. I'll never finish school. Never have a job. Never get married. Never have children.

_The sharp knife of a short life, well  
I've had just enough time_

_And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom  
I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger,_

As I finally start to lose my composure, there is a knock at the door, then it bursts open. Vick. The only person I could cry in front of. My best friend, my only real friend. My boyfriend. But even now, I can't bring myself to let a single tear fall. Not even as he wraps his arms around me.

"This isn't right." his voice shakes as he tried to speak. He's trying so hard to hold back his anger at the world. "You can do this, y'know?"

"Sure." I manage to choke out a smal laugh. "I'll just kill all the other tributes and come right home."

"You don't have to kill, you just have to survive." It sounded so simple. Just survive. "Promise me you'll try."

"No." I shook my head. "You've seen what hopes does to the families. I won't do that."

"I've also seen what their children dying without a fight does to them. You have to try!" he gripped my hands to his chest. Vick's seen me cry dozens of times, but I'd never seen a single tear fall from his eyes. Not even when he sat by his mother's bed side and watched her die. Yet here he was, tears filling his eyes, begging me to just survive. "I love you. Please try to come back to me."

"You-" he what? What had he said? "You love me?"

"Of course." he smiled, but it quickly faded. "I'll always love you. That's why I need you to try."

"I'll try." I sighed as he pressed his lips to mine in a simple, chaste kiss. I guess I was one of the tributes trying to avoid the battle and outlast the others. I was going to try to survive.

It wasn't long before the peacekeepers came and drug Vick from my arms.

"I'll always love you. Don't forget that." he called as they slammed the door.

_I've never known the lovin' of a man  
But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand,  
There's a boy here in town, says he'll love me forever,  
Who would have thought forever could be severed by_

_The sharp knife of a short life, well,_  
_I've had just enough time_

Before I know it, I was in teh capitol, being dressed in clothing and jewelry that I'd never in a million years be able to afford, or even want to own. This wasn't the worst part of the games, but so far, it was the worst part of my life. Being paraded in front of the sponsors in ridiculous costumes and completely absurd makeup felt like the death of the real me. Real me was dead and gone, now they'd birthed the me that they wanted for the games.

I am no longer a windmill chasing child from the turbine section. Now I am the mysterious tribute from District 5 that my designer and mentor want me to be. Then I'm dressed up in a ball gown and paraded across a stage. This isn't me.

_So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls  
What I never did is done_

I'm seated beside Caesar Flickerman being questioned about every detail of my life and about my strategy in the arena. It's terribly ironic how a week ago, no one knew I existed, no one cared about my life. But now that I'm beating on death's door, everyone wants a piece of me. Everyone wants to know about the red headed girl from District 5.

_A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar  
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner  
And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'  
Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'_

I can't help but wonder where my parents are watching me from, or if they're being interviewed repeatedly by some annoying Capitol personality. As my platform rises into the arena, I finally decide to keep my promise to Vick. I just need to survive. I need to be a survivor. Just find somewhere to lie low and avoid being seen. I know I won't win though; some of these tributes are just too good. But I can make them work to kill me. I've decided one other thing. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry. My tears are officially turned off.

_If I die young, bury me in satin  
Lay me down on a bed of roses  
Sink me in the river at dawn  
Send me away with the words of a love song_

When the gong sounds, I dash for the closest item and then run for the woods. I'd never have survived the battle long enough to reach the weapons, and even if I did, I'd never be able to use them. I'm not killer. I'm a survivor.

_The ballad of a dove (oh, uh)  
Go with peace and love_

I watch from a hidden perch in a tree, not too far from the lake, as the battle plays out. From my point of view, I see the boy and girl from District 2 kill at least four people each, while the other's battle around them. They had to be the scariest tributes of the games. I make a mental not toespecially avoid them.

As the mayhem comes to a close, the tributes from 1 and 2 gather what equipment they can and make camp near the lake. They aren't very far from my tree, but far enough away that they don't notice me. I'm not surprised that the tributes from 1 and 2 are allies, but I am that they've accepted the boy from 3 and Peeta, the boy from 12. Where was the girl? Weren't they madly in love? Shouldn't they have stuck together? Vick would have stayed with me. Finally the cannon sounds eleven times and the hovercraft carries the dead back to their families.

I find, watching from my perch, that the boy and girl from 2, Cato and Clove, are completely demented. I also learn that they don't actually trust Peeta, nor he them. Peeta only sleeps minutes at a time, whereas Cato and Clove only sleep when the other is on guard.

I only leave my perch when they're out hunting the other tributes, and even then only to steal food from them or to gather water. 'Just survive' I tell myself as each cannon sounds and again at night when the faces of the dead hover in the sky. Still I refuse to shed tears for them, despite the ones that well up and threaten to fall from my eyes. Each of those tributes would have slit my throat had i given them the chance.

Eventually 'just surviving' becomes hard. Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire, had blown up the careers supplies, thus blowing up my food source. The blast also sent me plummeting from my perch to the ground. Sure, falling 25 feet from a tree might be easy to a squirrel or a bird, but not for me. A broken wrist and a large gash up the side of my arm on top of the new lack of food make it difficult to 'just survive'. I needed medicine and a splint for my arm.

The splint was the easy part. Two sticks tied around my arm with a strip of my shirt. But the bleeding gash refused to close completely, and if I moved it the wrong way it spill more blood. Just survive, I'd chant each time I lost more blood.

Then, they announced the rule change. Two could win if they were from the same district. Oh well! Means nothing to me. my male counterpart died during the blood bath. The game makers made this rule for them. Katniss and Peeta. Cato and Clove. They must be the favorites, after all, they are the only teams left. The rule change was mostly for Katniss and Peeta. I'm sure that the capitol is eating up their star-crossed lovers strategy. It was brilliant, after all.

My luck changed, only slightly, a few days after the rule change. We were invited to a feast. Someone somewhere must be dying, cause I sure know that my suffering wasn't the cause of the feast. Before they even finished the announcement, I was making my way towards the Cornucopia. No one would be foolish enough to be there right now. No one but me. I'd spend the night there, and as soon as the packs appeared I'd be gone.

And that was what I did. Before the table was even finished rising from out of the ground, I was there, then I was running for the trees.

I stopped long enough to see the two girls, Katniss and Clove, fighting. From where I stood, it looked like Katniss was a goner. I scanned the area and noticed that Cato was nowhere to be seen, which meant he could be anywhere. Then, there he was. No more than twenty feet to my left. I froze as he spotted me. This was it, I was dead. Cato was the one to avoid, and I'd ran right into his path.

I wasn't sure if I'd imagined it or not, but I swear I actually heard his hand grip tighter around his sword as he started towards me. The look in his eye reminded me of the wild dogs back home. When they spotted their prey and made their move. I was prey to Cato. This really was the end for me. FInnally I let some of the tears, that I'd been holding back, fall.

_Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket  
Save 'em for a time when you're really gonna need 'em, oh_

But as he closed in on me, a scream broke through the tense air. Was I screaming? No, I had no air in my lungs to scream. Then the voice was screaming his name. I would never scream his name. Realization flashed across his face and suddenly, Cato was no longer charging towards me, but for the Cornucopia.

'Run!' I told myself. 'Forget them and run! Just survive!'

Then I did. I ran and ran until my lungs protested, then I collapsed. I curled against a tree and let my tears fall some more. Every tear that I'd held back since the day my name was pulled from the fishbowl escaped. I sat there against that tree and cried for the entire duration of that day, through the anthem and the showing of the dead, then well into the night. Finally, I cried myself to sleep the next morning.

When I next woke, the sun was coming up again and my body was protesting the cramped way I'd been sleeping. I'd slept through an entire 24 hours. I should have never slept like this. It was foolish. I was completely exposed. Out in the open for any one of the tributes to pick me off. I'm just a defenseless ball curled up at the base of a tree. This was no way to survive.

I wasted no time moving. I found a tall thick tree and shakily climbed as high as I could, which wasn't very high considering the condition of my arm. I can feel my pulse under the makeshift splint, and I can see fresh blood oozing down my arm.

Once I settle into my perch, I tear open the pack I'd retrieved from the feast. Inside I find a real splint for my arm, a small jar of ointment and some white cotton bandages. The ointment tingles on my skin, and the bandages seem to stand out harshly against my dirty skin. I should have washed up somewhere before I wrapped it, but I needed to make sure I was hidden.

Finding food proved to be difficult for me. Actually it was much easier to find fresh water and shelter from the rain. My lack of food was going to make surviving impossible. I hadn't even received a parachute the whole games.

"Hey Clint, now would be a good time for some food in one of those pretty parachutes." I mumbled to myself and the cameras. Despite knowing that tributes who beg for food are less likely to get it, I tried. I was desperate.

I waited the whole night, and well into the morning, but nothing came. I was forced to drink as much water as I could manage in hopes of tricking my stomach into being ful. But to no avail, the hunger pains grow stronger as the rain lets up.

When it finally stops raining, I venture out into the woods again. I couldn't remember which berries were edible. What was the phrase the trainer had told me? Was it 'purple and sweet are good to eat' or 'blue and sweet'? Damn it! I couldn't remember!

"Look, I can handle Cato." a familiar voice came from the other side of some bushes. "I fought him before, didn't I?"

I ducked to avoid being seen. It was the love birds. Katniss and Peeta were just on the other side of these shrubs. They bicker back and forth about whether Peeta should be left alone, then Katniss teaches him some of the edible roots in the area and a strange whistle I'd heard from the birds earlier in the games. Then she walks past me and into the woods.

I stay frozen to the ground as I watch Peeta through the bushes. He collects some berries and places them on a parachute. I guess it was 'purple and sweet'. Alongside the berries, he laid out some apples, bread and some cheese on one of those sparkling silver parachutes. Lucky them! I wonder what they did to merit a parachute. Peeta then walked through into the trees towards the stream. This was my chance.

I dashed from my hiding spot, grabbed a handful of berries and a small, unnoticeable portion of cheese, then made for the trees. I needed to put as much distance between them and me. I definitely wasn't physically up for a confrontation, not that I'd ever have been able to beat the two of them, but now was the worst time. I kept running until my stomach started to protest. I stuffed the cheese in my mouth. It tasted like heaven! Then I stuffed the berries in my mouth and barely chewed before swallowing. I needed more food.

But as soon as I swallowed i knew it was 'blue and sweet, good to eat. But I swear true, purple will kill you.' That was what the trainer had said.

_The sharp knife of a short life, well  
I've had just enough time_

Then suddenly, the world spun up to meet me hard. I lay paralyzed on the ground staring up through the trees. This was it. I'd said that so many times before, but this truly was where I stopped trying to survive. In fifteen short years, I've lived two lifetimes. One of a windmill chasing child, and another of a survivor who could survive no more.

Against the blue sky, I saw the faces of my loves ones, the ones I'd lost and the ones that were losing me. They were there to see me off into the next life.

_So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls._

* * *

_Please review! Let me know what you think, even if you think it's horrible. It'll mean alot to me!_

_So...I just recently came to the realization that Gale has a brother named Vick. My Vick, in this story, is soo (obviously) not that Vick. Just a slip of the mind when it came to character names._

_-VJ_


End file.
